


A Tale of Two Spirits

by ink_dragon



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Blutara - Freeform, F/M, Zutara, painted lady x blue spirit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ink_dragon/pseuds/ink_dragon
Summary: What is the Blue Spirit's favorite thing to steal? Kisses, of course.
Relationships: Blue Spirit/Painted Lady, Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Zutara - Relationship
Comments: 15
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter 1

The Painted Lady crouched low beneath the factory’s high walls around midnight. From her vantage point, she could see the sludge-infused water - a byproduct of the ore processing that was taking place within - deluge into the river. The thick, oily substance floated down the stream, right into the arteries of the small fishing village below. It would kill the town and its residents unless she could do something about it. 

Earlier that day, when she had been walking the streets as an ordinary woman, she overheard a shopkeeper and a fisherman talking about the factory. 

This town sure has gone down hill since that metal factory set up shop up the river, one had said. 

Mhm, and the fishing is no good anymore, either! Said the other. 

If only the Painted lady could get rid of the factory somehow, then our town might have a chance to survive. 

The Painted Lady was the patron spirit of the Jang Hui river. Recently, a number of strange and miraculous occurrences had been happening in the village over night. Residents were attributing it to the spirit woman, and some even claimed to have witnessed her carrying out her work. She brought food for the villagers, and even healed the sick and wounded, many of whom were suffering from eating fish and drinking from the polluted river. 

That’s perfect! She had thought, and spent the rest of the day devising a plan.

When night arrived, she donned a long red dress and a wide brimmed straw hat. She put chalky white powder on her face and striped her face, neck and arms in red paint. She appraised herself in the reflection of a small bronze mirror and smiled with satisfaction. She was the very image of the Painted Lady. She had been playing the role of the patron spirit for the last several nights. The woman had urged her companions to go on without her, and that she only wanted to spend five days or so helping the village in any way she could. Time was not of the essence for them at the moment, so they had acquiesced.

It was now the third night since they had left her alone to do her good deeds. She had whipped up a heavy fog to disguise her movements as she searched for a way into the factory. The water flowing out of the grates was moving too swiftly for her to simply walk in through them, and she didn’t want to risk washing away her disguise by getting into the water herself. She spotted a large pipe protruding from the factory wall several feet above and in front of her. Only a small trickle of water was spilling out of it. The woman stood on the surface of the water and used her waterbending to propel herself up and in towards the pipe. She found that it was nearly tall enough for her to stand in. 

By the time she had walked ten feet into the enclosed space, she could see only inky darkness ahead of her. Behind her the waning moon shed its weak light into the tunnel. She pulled her lantern from where it was tied to her waist and lit it with a small sulfur match. The dull, red glow was hardly any help against the darkness, but it was better than groping blindly in the murk. 

After several dozen yards, she came upon an exit - a small ladder leading up towards a hatch. She waited for ten minutes, listening for any sign of movement or footsteps above her. She heard nothing. She would have to extinguish her lantern and climb the ladder in the dark. She had used her time listening to memorize the layout and find just the right place to stand beneath the manhole. 

Just as she was about to turn out her light, she saw the mechanism on the hatch door begin to turn. Someone was coming down! There was no time for her to put out the light, and nowhere to run anyway. A small circle of light appeared on the edges of the circular opening, like a miniature solar eclipse. The door opened slowly and carefully, as if the person on the other side was trying very hard not to make a sound. Her heart leapt into her throat. Had someone found her out somehow? As the door opened, she saw a tall, dark figure descend the ladder gingerly. Once he was completely inside, he closed the hatch door behind him as carefully as he had opened it. He leapt down into the tunnel with barely a sound. 

The woman dressed as the Painted Lady held her small lantern in one hand while the other thrust forward in a defensive bending stance. In the dim light, she saw a tall, hunched shape of a man dressed all in black. When he turned to face her, she could see that his face was covered by a blue oni mask. He froze, obviously not expecting to find her there. The two figures stood there, assessing one another. His hand had gone to a sword hilt, which was strapped behind his back. But when she proved not to be an immediate threat, he nodded his head behind him, turned his back on her and began heading deeper into the pipe. 

Does he want me to follow? She thought, dumbfounded for a moment. She could hardly believe that two masked avengers had stumbled into each other with the same goal in mind. When she didn’t immediately follow, he turned to face her again and waited. The woman began walking forward after him. 

He seemed to know where he wanted to go. There were several places where the pipe opened into other avenues, and he never hesitated when choosing their path. The woman realized that she probably would have become hopelessly lost if she had not stumbled upon this man. Still, she wondered where he was taking them. His manner of dress made her fear that he was an assassin, and that his goals were quite different from her own. She just wanted to bust a few pipes and ruin the work that was being done here. She would avoid harming anyone if she could. This tall, athletic man moved as smoothly and soundlessly as a shadow - or at least he would, if it weren’t for the small splashing sound of his feet trekking through a few inches of water. After several minutes of observing him, she had realized that his scabbard contained two swords instead of one. Clearly he was some sort of sword master; she had never heard of anyone handling two swords at once, at least not among the Water Tribes. 

It was too late to turn back now, she realized. She cursed herself for not paying as much attention to the way they had come as she had towards trying to figure out this strange masked man. She decided that she wasn’t very good at being a vigilante after all, and she had now very likely gotten herself in too deep with her bold and ambitious plan. 

They came to another fork in the path when they heard the sound of footsteps echoing on metal above them. They both froze. The woman tried very hard to control her breathing, taking too shallow breaths. Her anxiety was going to make her start hyperventilating. She hazarded a deep breath with a long, slow exhale. When several minutes had passed since they last heard the steps, they took a left and soon arrived at another ladder leading up. This one led much higher than the one where the masked man had entered through. He gestured for her to give him the lantern. Supposing she had no choice but to trust him now, she relinquished it. He climbed the ladder with the lantern in hand, moving it back and forth in order to keep his grip. He took the small hook that she had used to attach it on to her waist and hung it from the ladder’s top rung. She lept for the ladder and grabbed it easily, using a bit of waterbending to give herself a boost up. She climbed nearly to the top before he signaled her to stop. 

They waited in silence for several long minutes. What could be on the other side of that door? She mused. Was it the entrance to the foreman’s quarters, where he would slip in and murder him? Would he expect her to play a part? Once again she realized just how far out of her depth she had gone. If her friends or her brother ever heard about what she had done, she would never hear the end of it, and they would never listen to her when she counseled them away from overly risky exploits again. 

She was so busy berating herself internally that she almost missed her companion’s signal that he was preparing to open the hatch. He extinguished the lantern himself, then went to work on turning the mechanism. Despite his efforts, a small high-pitched screech escaped from the door as he carefully swung it open. He ducked low, as if expecting a blow. When none was forthcoming, he pulled a small piece of glass out of a pouch that laid flat against his body. She realized it was a small, square mirror. He angled the glass, using it to look at the room above them. It appeared to be a large stairwell. He put both hands through the door and vaulted out of the tunnel. She followed as best as she could, although she realized that doing vigilante work in a long dress had not been her brightest idea. 

He closed the hatch behind her and gestured for her to follow again. They began moving up the stairwell, climbing as swiftly and silently as they could. He was so light on his feet that he barely made a sound. She was no stranger to stealth, but she was nowhere near this man’s level of skill in the art. They had climbed a few floors when she found a door labeled “foundry”. When she stopped following, the man turned to see what the matter was. She had one hand reached towards the door. She looked into the dark eyes of the mask, but could not see a trace of the man behind them. He shook his head, and motioned for her to follow again. 

She was pretty sure that the door would lead her to where she needed to go to accomplish her own agenda, but she was suddenly afraid that the man’s signals were a warning that she needed to heed. She decided to trust her instincts and follow him. 

Somewhere below them, a door opened. She felt a strong hand firmly grasping her arm, pulling her against the wall. 

“Someone there?” a groggy male voice called up to them. They waited a few tense heartbeats until the man yawned and began walking down the stairs. She allowed herself to slowly exhale the breath she had been holding. It seemed to take an eternity for the man to walk down several flights and exit through another door. After another minute, they resumed their upward sprint. 

Finally the man seemed to find what he had been searching for: a nondescript door labeled only with a number. He leaned the side of his head against the door and waited. After a minute or so, he nodded and tried the handle. It didn’t budge. He pulled out a number of small instruments - lockpicking tools, she guessed. Just as he carefully inserted what looked like a slim metal file into the keyhole, the lights in the room went out. They were plunged into complete darkness only for a few tense moments when a red light above the doorway began flashing. She turned and saw that red lights above all of the doorways on the staircase were flashing. A voice coming from both above and below them announced “code red - intruders on site”. 

The man made an unintelligible grunt, the first sound she had heard him make. He began to work frantically on the lock, but she was afraid that he had been rattled by this turn of events. He wouldn’t be able to get the lock open before they were spotted.

She touched his shoulder and gestured for him to let her try. He looked at her for a brief moment then stepped aside. She bent a stream of liquid from her waterskin into the keyhole and transformed it to ice. The makeshift key turned in the lock, and the two of them quickly bolted into the room and shut the door behind them. 

They were in a long corridor full of pipes. Perfect, she thought triumphantly. 

The masked man sprinted down the hall. To her surprise, he stopped at a large red valve and began turning it. Steam billowed out into the room. She used his momentum and began pulling more steam out of the pipes. The sound of buckling metal was heard all around them as the space filled with warm mist. They continued in this manner down the hall, carrying the mist with them as they went. 

A door opened behind them. “What the hell?” a man’s voice spoke.

Suddenly her companion was pulling her down low to the ground as a sudden flash of fire moved through the mist, dispelling it. She used her waterbending to maintain their shroud. The man cursed again, and they heard the sounds of footsteps coming nearer. Further down the corridor she heard shouts - more people coming their way.  
Well, this is it, she thought, getting into a fighting stance. She would have to fight to defend herself. The man in the oni mask pulled his twin blades from behind his back. He didn’t have to tell her to hold her position. He would take the firebender from the stairwell, while she took care of the others. 

She decided to make the first move. She manipulated some of the mist so that it formed a thin sheet of ice over the floor for several yards in front of her. When the first man slipped on the unexpected ice, she would both know their position and have the upper hand on them. She spared a glance behind her and saw that her companion was standing firm, his swords crossed in front of his body in a defensive stance. He was expecting another fire blast at any moment. She felt a little less secure knowing that she might have to dodge attacks from both in front and behind her. 

Luckily for the both of them, the firebender was noisy. He gave an audible grunt as another wave of fire hurtled towards them. They had plenty of time to dodge. Suddenly he was right on top of them. Her companion was holding him off, his dual swords stopping the end of the man’s long-handled weapon - some type of hasta, she guessed. But she didn’t have time to focus on what was happening behind her. She heard as the first man in front of her met the ice. He gave a whoa! and managed to keep himself from slipping. However, that didn’t stop the two, less cautious men behind him. With a cry they fell on the ice, cursing. To her surprise she realized that one of her would-be assailants was a woman. 

She heard a loud crack from behind her - the firebender’s weapon being broken by her masked companion. She heard a grunt as the man stumbled back, his useless weapon clattering to the ground. When the first man appeared in front of her wielding a large wrench, she was ready for him. She gestured, pooling the mist around his feet and securing him in ice. His own momentum toppled him forward. The second man ran right into the first and went down on top of him. She quickly froze his hands to the floor. The woman gave a loud cry as she swung a blunt weapon at the waterbender. She was repelled with a tendril of water. As her assailant hit the wall, she quickly froze her hands and feet to the metal. 

She whirled to assist her companion, but he had neutralized his own opponent as well. The man lay on the floor, knocked senseless. She froze him to the ground for good measure. The man in the oni mask gave her an appreciative nod. 

They continued down the corridor for a few dozen yards before they encountered another door. There was a small glass window with metal bars. The other side of the door was illuminated by a dull red glow. As they had gotten closer to the door, the air around them had warmed significantly. 

With the element of surprise long forgotten, the man swung the door open and exited to the other side without hesitation. They were on a balcony above a large, open area. Below them, she could see where molten metal was being led through a series of half pipes above a hot bed of coals. Two figures were standing below them, their arms raised to defend themselves. They were wearing thick gloves and aprons, as well as strange metal masks with a narrow glass window near the eyes. One man held a large hammer in his hand while the other assumed a bending stance. As soon as he saw them, the man hurled a wave of fire at them. 

It was a clumsy move - either the man was not accustomed to fighting, or his strange mask and gloves were holding him back. They dodged it easily, her companion lifted his sword in a lazy arch to redirect the flame away from himself. 

She reached through the open door and pulled the mist from the corridor. Ice likely wouldn’t hold them for long in this room, but the fog would mask their movements. She heard the metallic sound of her companion leaping to the balcony railing and dropping down among the two men. The crash of metal on metal soon followed as the man with the hammer slammed his weapon, missing his target. It was succeeded shortly after by a grunt, and the sound of the hammer dropping to the floor. A wide arch of flame burst above the mist, dispelling enough of it to give her a brief glimpse of what was happening below. Her companion had dodged it easily, slid behind the man, and was about to incapacitate him. When she heard the man drop, she lifted the mist and peered down below. Her companion motioned for her to follow again. 

She signaled for him to wait, and ran over to a control panel on the balcony. She wove her mist around the levers and forced the temperature to drop rapidly. Glass instrument panels burst in miniature explosions, and their small inner mechanisms failed. Satisfied, she mist stepped down to join the man in the oni mask. 

They continued moving through the factory. The woman disguised as the Painted Lady took every opportunity she could to wreak havoc on her surroundings - bursting pipes, breaking delicate instruments, and stopping anyone who tried to get in her way. Between her clever defensive waterbending and her companion’s quick, decisive melee attacks, they easily subdued the small force that had appeared to apprehend them. 

Finally, they came to the kind of impasse that she had feared all night. They stood inside a surprisingly opulently furnished room - some sort of office, she guessed. A tall, opposing man stood before them. 

He looked from one to the other of the two vigilantes. “What the hell kind of intruders are you?” he asked smugly. He took a fighting stance when the two companions declined to respond. 

The man took a deep breath - a firebending move which she recognized as dragon’s breath. She rolled out of the way, then prepared to whip out a water tendril to strike back. Before she had the chance, the masked man was standing directly in front of her, standing between her and her assailant. If he was an assassin, then this was his mark, and he didn’t want anyone to interfere. 

The man turned and pulled a long sword off of the wall behind him. “Ha! Very well, I’ll kill you first and then your woman,” he taunted.   
She rolled her eyes. Even though she had not known the man for long, she was confident that the man in the oni mask could wipe the floor with this ponce in a few quick strokes. 

That did not turn out to be the case. Although his assailant was big and clumsy looking, he moved with military precision. She realized suddenly that this man was part of the Fire Nation military, and an officer in high standing at that. The two seemed equally matched. For what the big man brought in strength and height, her companion made up for in speed and cunning. However, dodging could only succeed until luck met its limit. The man managed a glancing blow on her companion’s chest. The fabric of his shirt tore away, revealing a long bloody slash. He stumbled, and the bigger man took the opening. However, he overreached. He put all of his might behind a heavy swing in an attempt to finish his opponent. The man in the oni mask rolled away and pivoted into a flanking position. He came up behind the man and disarmed him with a heavy blow to the elbow with the hilt of his sword. The man cursed and dropped the longsword just as the twin blades were crossed beneath the soft flesh of his neck. 

The Painted Lady stared at the scene before her. Now she had a decision to make. Could she stand by and let this man be assassinated? Before she could think it through, she was pulling a fine mist out of her waterskin. She filled the room with a dense fog. Her plan was to freeze both men in place, but before she could act, she heard a grunt and a solid thump of blunt metal hitting flesh. When she cleared the room again, the man stood before her, his mask slightly out of place, revealing a pale chin and thin, red lips. Behind him, the large military man lay unconscious. 

To her great shock, the man took her hand. His grip was gentle, almost shy. He lifted her small brown hand to his lips. Then, he appeared to vanish. She sat there blinking for a while until she realized that a hatch she had not noticed had been opened in the floor before her. She peered down a long shaft and saw the pale light of the pre-dawn sky reflected below. She heard the sound of an engine roaring to life, and moments later a jet ski zipped beneath the small porthole. 

She descended the ladder. It led to a small, private boat dock. There were other jet skis parked there, but the Painted Lady needed none of those. She used her own bending to move across the water. The jet ski carrying the man in the blue oni mask was nowhere in sight. She had never even gotten a chance to ask him about who he was or what he was doing at the factory, or even to thank him for his help. She had a feeling that he wished for his identity to remain hidden. Even so, later that night as she lay awake in her lonely camp, she revisited the memory of their final moments together, of his hand gently holding hers to his soft lips. It was the last thing she thought about before closing her eyes to sleep away the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Something didn’t feel right as the woman walked the wooden docks that made up the streets of the village the following afternoon. Although the residents had not been overly friendly to the stranger in their midst before, they seemed to shun her now. If she happened to pass by someone sweeping out their front door, they would quickly turn away, or suddenly become very interested in the boards beneath their feet. Even children stopped playing when she walked by them and began whispering to one another. Her unease grew as she entered the town’s main thoroughfare, where she had planned to buy some produce for a halfway decent meal. 

She came to the stall where she had been accustomed to shop. The bent old man behind the counter gave her a nervous smile. As she picked out a few vegetables that looked the least wilted, he looked her up and down and said quietly, “You have been my best customer these last few days. I’ll tell you what: I keep the best stuff in the back. Why don’t you come inside and I’ll let you pick from there?”

The woman hesitated. Her instincts told her that being alone with this man might not be a good idea. As she studied his eyes, she noted a hint of anxiety, not malice. She nodded and padded into the small hut and closed the door behind her. There was no fresh produce from what she could see, only empty shelves and a few sparse dry goods. 

“They know what you did last night,” he whispered urgently. “Please, take the food and leave the village at once!”

She was gobsmacked! How had the villagers known she had sabotaged the factory? Then the answer came to her. Of course, she was such a fool! She was the only stranger seen in the village lately, and her sudden appearance correlated precisely with the emergence of the Painted Lady. This old shopkeeper couldn't have been the only one who had noticed. Then her brow furrowed. Why would the residents be angry with her for destroying the factory? Even they had admitted that the village would be better off if the factory had never been built! 

The old shopkeeper interpreted her silence as defiance. “You don’t understand,” he continued. “This morning, the general showed up with some soldiers and demanded that we turn over the people who had been raiding the factory. They said we only have until tomorrow to turn them in, or else the general would bring his airship and burn the entire village!” 

She was shocked. Could the general he was speaking of be the big surly man from the night before? The one that had been taken down by the man with the oni mask?. If so, then perhaps her desire to spare him might have been a terrible misjudgement. Her head swam, and the room seemed to tilt in front of her. 

A loud knock from the other side of the door snapped her out of her reverie. “Open up, old man! We know you have her!,” a man boomed. Great, now she had gotten her only confidant into trouble. 

“Trust me.” she hissed as she bent a stream of water through one of the cracks in the floor and froze his feet fast. The man’s eyes went wide with terror. 

“I have your old man!” she declared, mustering as much menace as she could. “Let me pass, and I won’t hurt him.”There was a moment of silence from the other side of the door.

“Okay, we’re opening the door. Please don’t hurt Shu.” All of the fight had gone out of the man’s voice. The door swung open, revealing just how unthreatening the makeshift mob had been. The man closest to the door was thin and drawn. His only other ally was a woman who was just as hungry looking, other than the huge swell of her pregnant belly. 

The waterbender’s heart sank. The small fishing town must truly be desperate if these two were its only defenders. She dashed out, leaving her sad looking vegetables behind. 

She spent the rest of the day puzzling over the small map of the area she had procured on her first day in the village. There was no air field marked on the map, but she believed that she could narrow down the location. There were only three possible sites that she could deduce. Two of them seemed too close to the surrounding mountain range to make for a good launching point. The final spot looked perfect; it was the top of a flat mesa with a good view of the river and surrounding landscape below. The main road of the region also passed right by it, facilitating a supply line between the factory and the air base. 

She waited until the sun was down to leave her secluded cave. She had been staying in a hollow behind a small waterfall that was downstream from the fishing town. It would take her until after midnight to make her way to the mesa where she believed the airbase would be located. She packed two extra waterskins since she would have to leave the river behind for the last leg of her journey. 

The woman once again employed the appearance of the Painted Lady to carry out her raid. After all, carrying on with the illusion that a spirit was the one perpetrating these sabotages could only help her in the long run. 

The journey up river was uneventful. She passed the village with barely a whisper of sound. Lights were still lit in many of the houses as the residents anxiously awaited their fate. Some fishing boats were being loaded with women and children. No-one called out to her as the silent figure shrouded in mist passed them by at a distance. 

She had to travel over land for a time in order to give the factory a wide berth. She moved silently through the thick underbrush that flanked the river and managed to get by safely. She tore her dress at one point and silently wished that the Painted Lady had been known for tight-fitting trousers instead of long flowing skirts. 

By the time she reached the road below the mesa, the small sliver of moon had risen to the apex of the night sky. The waning moon had been her friend these last few days, its weak light hid her movements from unwelcome eyes. She prayed that it would be on her side for this mission. Although the darkness helped disguise her movement, her waterbending was at its weakest when the moon was in its last quarter. She would have to rely on precision and stealth to carry out her plans. She needed to take out the airship to prevent it launching and destroying the village come morning. 

The woman had seen Fire Nation air vessels before. She imagined a larger sort of air balloon, like the one her brother had piloted during the invasion of the Air Temple. Puncturing the balloon should render it harmless, something she could easily accomplish with a few well-aimed ice darts. 

The road zig-zagged up the side of the mesa. It was the easiest route, but she couldn’t risk being caught by sentires. She discovered an area that would be hidden from the road, and employed mist-stepping to climb up the steep rock. It was a waterbending technique which used small, precise bursts of ice to propel herself one foot at a time. She could walk up the side of a steep mountain with the ease it took to climb a stairway. 

She was nearly at the top of the cliff face when she heard the sound of falling rocks beneath her. She quickly froze herself to the mountain side. If someone was looking for her, she had no chance of hiding here. When she looked down she saw a small, dark figure climbing beneath her. Her heart leaped into her throat, but when the moon re-appeared from behind a cloud she saw that the man was wearing a blue mask. Now her stomach fluttered for entirely different reasons. The man in the blue oni mask had appeared to aid her again! It seemed that the Painted Lady had found her own personal spirit patron. 

She waited until he climbed into level with her. She could feel his eyes gazing at her intently behind the black, impenetrable circles of the mask. He nodded in acknowledgement of her, and began making his way to the top of the cliff. She freed herself from her icy bonds and resumed mist-stepping. Despite his athletic prowess, her waterbending brought her to the top long before he had climbed even two-thirds of the way to the upper edge. 

She crouched behind a boulder near the cliff and waited. Meanwhile, she decided to sneak a peek at what they were dealing with. What she saw made her breathe in sharply. It was no mere balloon, although there were three or four of those on the perimeter of her gaze as well. A huge, vaguely eggplant shaped vehicle dominated the view. If this were some sort of balloon, it was entirely made of metal. It would take more than a few ice darts to penetrate its outer surface. 

She cursed herself for getting into another bind. This time at least she had the option to back out. However… she couldn’t just let the village be destroyed because of what she had done. Besides, her unexpected ally had miraculously appeared to aid her once more. She decided she would see it through to the end. 

As she was resolving herself, she heard the masked man finish his ascent and join her. He signaled for her to wait, then pulled out his mirror once again. She had seen very little in the way of sentries or buildings when she took her brief glance. She had noted one small sentry post near the road, but other than that there were very little perimeter defenses on top of the mesa. Unfortunately, there were torches at regular intervals within the encampment. They would have to be more cautious when making their way to the ships. A military compound, even a small outpost such as this one, was sure to be full of more skilled defenders than the factory had been. 

She felt like an idiot again, but there was no turning back now. After getting a good look at their surroundings her companion stashed away the mirror again and motioned for her to follow him. 

They darted between rocky outcrops, slowly moving in towards the center of the mesa. There seemed to be very little personnel active in the small camp; these soldiers must have felt very secure on their mountain top. Their negligence would work well in their favor, she surmised. They were moving in towards the first outer torch when they heard someone moving around within the camp. The woman saw in the man’s small mirror that a soldier was moving right towards him. They crouched as still as if they were stones themselves as the footsteps drew nearer. She heard the man mumbling to himself - something about too much rice wine - when the footsteps finally stopped. She heard him making water somewhere nearby when her companion tightly gripped her forearm. She turned her head to look at him; he was signalling for her to stay put. 

To her surprise, he stood to his full height with one blade drawn and rushed at the man. Before he could cry out, his mouth had been clamped shut with a cloth. The man’s eyes went wide, then he toppled over in the masked man’s grip. He let him down - not ungently, but he’d probably wake up with a bruise or two and a sore neck - and began patting the man’s clothes, as if looking for something. He produced a set of keys from the man’s pockets. 

The woman was astonished at the resourcefulness of the masked man. Somehow, he must have known that the man was of a high enough rank to possess keys to some of the buildings, or maybe even the airship. As for his trick with the cloth, she had no idea how it had been done, but she wasn’t eager to find out. 

They resumed their slow inward spiral towards the camp, moving ever closer to the ship. No-one stirred within the camp. It was eerily quiet. Her companion seemed to slow, as if the unusual inactivity put him on edge. He was honing in on an out building - some sort of barracks, she thought. The woman hoped that he knew what he was doing. They flattened themselves to the side of the large building. He signaled for her to wait. 

No problem, she thought. She wasn’t about to risk waking up an entire barracks full of guards. When the masked man disappeared around the other side of the building, she suddenly felt vulnerable. What would she do if whatever he was planning to do failed? Should she stay and try to fight, or would she flee to save her own skin as well as her anonymity? She tried to imagine what the man in the oni mask might do if she were in the same situation, but she admitted to herself that she didn’t know enough to guess. One thing for certain, the woman knew that she was not the kind of person to leave an ally behind, even if it meant risking everything, and she thought of the man as her ally.

She was so lost in thought that she started when she felt the presence of another person sitting right beside her. Luckily she caught herself before she fell on her bottom or made a sound. It was the man in the blue oni mask, dangling a new set of keys for her inspection. He tilted his head in the direction of the ship, and she nodded. 

They were making a mad dash for cover when they heard someone shout “Who’s there?” They quickly ducked behind the rocks, but it was too late. A man was making his way right towards him, a torch held in one hand. 

“What is it?” they heard a feminine voice say from a distance. She prayed that no-one in the barracks was feeling particularly dutiful tonight, if the voices awakened them. 

Her companion was studying the scene in his small glass again. He held up two fingers to indicate that it was just the man and woman who were approaching them. He signaled for her to hold her position. 

What? She thought. There was no way that she was going to let him fight alone. Before she could protest, he was springing up from his cover, perching himself on top of the rocks she was hiding behind. Their two pursuers gasped in unison. 

“It's the Blue Spirit!” the woman hissed. So her companion had a name after all! 

The other man did not hesitate. She heard him grunt as the light from the torch danced. 

Fool, she thought. What kind of guard investigated two mysterious people sneaking around armed only with a torch? Then she saw a ball of flame hurtle past her and dissipate into the night. He had not been carrying a conventional torch, she realized. 

Two metallic thwacks resounded in the night air as a series of objects struck the rocks in front of her. The woman must have been throwing darts or knives at her companion. Luckily, she missed. 

She heard the woman cry out and the sound of footsteps running away. She must have lost her nerve and was making a run for it. It was followed shortly after by the sound of a body hitting the ground. She heard the hard, meaty thump of a solid kick meeting flesh. Apparently she would not be allowed to escape and alert the others. 

All the while, lights were dancing on the ground around her. Her companion must have been artfully dodging all of the man’s firebending. The Painted Lady was astounded by his skills. Perhaps he had trained especially for infiltrating the Fire Nation army and negating firebenders? It was now a one on one battle between the firebender and her companion. She briefly saw a glimpse of him as he jumped back on to the rocks she was hiding behind and bounded forward at his opponent using his own momentum. She heard a sharp clang and the sound of steel scraping against steel. So, the man was armed after all. 

The fight did not last much longer. The song of steel rang out into the night. She was amazed that she did not hear more footsteps running out to join the fray. The battle ended when she heard the sound of metal dropping on to the hard, rocky ground. Then she heard several sharp, staccato punches. The man fell limply to the ground within sight of her, and did not stir. 

When the man in the blue oni mask appeared beside her again, he offered a hand up. She took it without thinking, then began to panic as she realized they would both be easily sighted by anyone within the barracks. But no-one stirred. They made a mad dash for the airship, not bothering to duck and cover this time. Something strange was definitely up. The odds that no-one had heard the battle that just happened were too steep, but she could not question it now. She wasn’t about to look twice at good fortune while her mission was still unaccomplished. 

The ship was hovering about a dozen feet above the ground near a raised landing platform. They ran up the ramp, not bothering to check and see if the coast was clear first. The second set of keys were indeed the keys to the gondola of the airship. They ducked inside, closing the door behind them. The inside of the enclosed space was dark. The light of the distant torches and pale moonlight were barely enough to illuminate the small room they had found themselves in. There was a door in front of them, and small metal rungs leading to a trap door in the ceiling. 

She followed close behind her companion as he tried the door. It swung open, but there was nothing of interest inside; it was just an empty troop transport bay. That left the ladder. He climbed up ahead of her and began slowly easing the trap door open. When nothing tried to stop him, he pushed it aside completely and climbed through. She followed cautiously after. 

The room they were now standing in was some sort of control room. The entire front end of the cabin was made up of wide glass windows looking out over the camp. She noted that the moon was now low in the sky; dawn would be approaching soon. Below the windows were a vast array of instruments, levers, and switches. 

That’s perfect! She thought. She could simply disable the ship using the same freezing trick she had employed at the factory. Then she noticed a tall-backed chair facing away from them in front of the panel. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she had the sudden premonition that they were not alone. 

The chair whirled around, revealing a tall, plain-looking man. To her complete surprise, it was not the same military man who had faced them the night previously. Apparently, the surprise was mutual. Her companion took a hesitant step back as he studied the person in the captain’s chair. 

“What? Were you expecting someone else?” he sneered. His voice was neither high nor low, and didn’t hold any particular menace, but it somehow gave her chills. 

When neither of them answered, the man began to speak again.“I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting you to bring a guest, Blue Spirit.” He used the same name to describe the masked man that the woman had used. 

The Blue Spirit remained silent. He pulled both swords out of their scabbard and stood defensively in front of her. It seemed that he insisted on fighting alone this night. 

The man in the chair chuckled. “How chivalrous of you. Too bad it will do you no favors. Once I’m through with you, I’m taking her with me. You, on the other hand…” he trailed off, leaving the threat hang in the air.What was it with villains and their need to make pointless speeches before threatening to kill you? 

“I go by many names,” he continued, apparently not done being redundant yet. “But you can call me… Lee.” 

The woman almost scoffed out loud. Really, Lee? That was the least she was expecting from this guy. Plus, there were a million Lees in the Fire Nation. He hadn’t even used an impressive title like captain or admiral.

However, her companion seemed to have recognized something in the man. Suddenly his dual swords clattered to the ground, forgotten. He took a stance that looked surprisingly similar to a waterbending move. 

The man laughed, and this time he was starting to sound more maniacal. “So, you have heard of me! Let’s see what you can do against this!”

The Painted Lady gasped as she recognized the man’s hand movements. She had seen those same gestures used by a firebender once before. A blinding flash lit up the room as Lee hurled bolts of lightning at her companion. She fell backwards at the force of the blow and covered her face with her hands. She could not bear to look as the fatal blast surged into his body. She heard a grunt of exertion escape from the Blue Spirit, who stood just in front of her. She looked up in time to see him lift his arm up and point both hands towards Lee. The tendrils of re-directed lightning shot out from her companion’s up-raised hand. 

Electricity danced across the instruments and arched into the air. To her astonishment, he had not aimed directly at Lee but at the control panel behind him. However, that did not protect him entirely. A stray energy bolt leapt towards Lee, knocking him to the ground. 

It was over. The Blue Spirit had not only managed to survive a hit from Lee’s lightning, but he had somehow captured and redirected it. She was astonished, but she didn’t have time to sit there, stunned. The cabin smelled of ozone and it was starting to catch fire. Her companion ushered her through the trap door; Ignoring the ladder, she jumped down to the floor below. He soon followed behind her. 

They were running towards the edge of the mesa when she remembered the balloons. She released the cap from one of her water skins and sent a number of sharp icicles through the suspended fabric. If the lightning and fire didn’t alert the sentries, then the decompressing air balloons would. Stealth was no longer necessary for their escape. She ran from one balloon to the next, not bothering to see if the Blue Spirit was still running beside her. When the final balloon had been punctured, she turned and saw him waiting for her, motioning for her to follow him. 

She dashed towards him, the sound of shouts ringing out behind her. Whoever they were, they were too far away to be of any concern to her now. Getting down from the mesa proved to be trickier than climbing up. She had seldom needed mist-stepping to descend from somewhere. As a result, her companion beat her to the bottom of the cliff face this time. Instead of taking the trouble to climb, he lept from one foothold to another, like a mountain lion-goat. Once she was on solid ground again they ran for the cover of the nearby rocks. The Painted Lady did her best to keep up, but running in a skirt was still difficult, no matter how much practice she had been getting lately. She was out of breath after a few minutes. When her companion realized she was no longer following, he backtracked to her position. 

They crouched in the cover of a large boulder for a while, catching their breath. The Blue Spirit carefully unwrapped one of his gloved hands. It was badly burned from taking the hit from the lightning. She heard him suck in a pained breath as the night air stung the raw, angry flesh. 

Without saying a word, she pulled water from one of her skins and bent it towards his hand. When he tried to pull it away, she gently took hold of his wrist. She held him steady as she let the cool liquid flow over his injured hand. It began to glow softly as she concentrated on healing and soothing the flesh. 

When she was done, he flexed his fingers experimentally, then turned towards her. He was so close to her. Before she knew what she was doing, she began to gently lift the mask off of his face. His hand shot up and grabbed her wrist, stopping her. She had only managed to lift enough of it to see his lips and chin. 

Without thinking, she leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. It was a shy, furtive kiss.

“Thank you,” she whispered. If it weren’t for him, she would have fallen directly into Lee’s trap, she did not doubt.

As she pulled away, the man was pulling his mask over his face again, covering it completely. She could feel his eyes searching hers for the space of a heartbeat, then he suddenly stood and started slowly backing away from her. 

“Wait!” she cried, but he had already turned and was sprinting away faster than she could follow.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the village of Jang Hui revolts when they don't get their stimulus checks.

The man lay on his narrow wooden bed, staring at a piece of paper in one up raised hand. Meet me at Ryuu Peak at sunset - The Painted Lady, it read. 

He scowled, crumpled the paper up in his hands and tossed it to the floor. It was not the first time he had done so that morning. He sat up and ran his hand roughly through his shaggy, unkempt hair. The note had arrived during one of the few hours he had been able to sleep that night. His rest was troubled by anxious thoughts about the events of the previous nights. 

He knew the Painted Lady’s true identity. That night, after she had kissed him, he looked into her eyes and recognized her. Just the thought of those few moments was enough to make him throw himself back against the hard bed. He could smell the vaguely musty scent of the inn’s blankets.

Obviously, she had followed him to his lodgings to deliver her message. He counted himself fortunate that he had been so weary that night that he had collapsed into bed immediately without bothering to disrobe or even take off the balaclava he was wearing. The note had been there on the floor, just inside the doorway when he awoke a few short hours after dawn. He doubted that she had entered, just slid the note through the gap underneath the door, but if she had entered, and if his face hadn’t been covered…

He shook his head to dispel the thought. No, that didn’t matter. She must have guessed his true identity by now, or else why deliver the note? He pushed himself in a seated position. He was unconsciously clenching and unclenching his hand, the one that she had healed last night. He should have known who she was earlier; he had seldom met other waterbenders during his long exile, let alone anywhere near his own country. Perhaps he had deluded himself that first night, when her skills had proved useful to his mission. But he should have known better. Instead of kissing her hand he should have held onto her and demanded answers. 

But that’s what the old him would have done. Now, he wasn’t sure what he wanted. In any case, when he was wearing the face of the Blue Spirit, he had no business confronting anyone who knew his true identity. 

The thoughts had brought him to his feet, and he found himself pacing towards the crumpled note again. He stopped and scowled at it. 

I won’t find any more answers in there, he told himself. Then his stomach growled. He couldn’t remember the last meal he had eaten - was it the morning of the day before? Although he was too worked up to even consider breakfast, his body continued to protest. 

First, he felt the need to clean himself up a bit. He double checked that the door was locked fast and there were no gaps in the curtains. The inn didn’t have much in the way of facilities for personal hygiene, just a basin above a too-small mirror. He carefully removed the balaclava which covered most of his face. It was uncomfortably damp around the mouth from sleeping with it on. He splashed water onto his face and hair, avoiding his own reflection in the mirror. Except on rare occasions, he didn’t like to look at his own face. It was too much a reminder of all he had suffered through over the last three years. 

Next he dipped the fabric face covering into what remained of the water, wrung it out with his hands and draped it over the side of the basin to dry. He fetched a length of clean, black fabric and carefully began wrapping his own face. Now he did need to look in the mirror. He watched himself wind the fabric over the pink stub of his left ear to hold it in place as he wound it around the entire left half of his face. He also covered his mouth for good measure. Now only one piercing golden iris stared back at him through the dirty glass. 

He changed into the ordinary peasant’s clothing he had obtained for traveling in the country undercover. It was plain and undyed, but it was clean and serviceable. The lack of dirt or oil stains almost made him stand out as if he were wearing royal garb, he thought. No-one paid him much attention, however. He stayed quiet and unremarkable. 

Nothing has changed there, he thought bitterly as he made his way to the inn’s dingy common room. It wasn’t the nicest establishment, but at least it was free of fleas. That might be partially in thanks to the orange and red reptiles that hung around the place, earning the inn its name: The Golden Dragon. It was more than a little bit above its station. A more fitting name might have been “The Fire Lizard Lounge”. 

“Hey, hey there, Lee!” The innkeeper called to him by the pseudonym he had given. “Did you get your love letter? A beautiful young lady dropped by looking for a man about your height. I figured it was you, since you were the only one staying here until last night. Sadly I couldn’t convince her to stay and wait for you to wake up.” He was grinning as he teased the young man. 

He fumed, but managed to maintain a level gaze. Hiding his face helped him do that much, at least. He had been the only one at the inn during his time there - that is, until refugees from Jang Hui town started to show up the day before. 

After a deep breath, he answered coolly, “yes, I did.” 

The innkeeper held up his hands as if to fend off a blow. “Whoa there, guy!” He said in mock defensiveness, “I didn’t read it, I swear! She insisted on delivering it herself. It must have been a pretty juicy note, though. A declaration of love, perhaps?” 

“Just bring me some rice and tea,” he said through his teeth. The innkeeper’s overly friendly manner had almost been enough to make him walk out and find another establishment on his first night, but the utter lack of decent inns in this part of the country swayed him against it. At least the inn offered refreshments, even if it was just watery tea and lukewarm rice. The innkeeper brought him a bowl and a cup. 

“You know, you can eat in the common room,” he offered. “However bad you think your scars look, it won’t bother me, I promise. My mom had a huge birthmark right in the middle of her face…” 

“No thanks,” he answered shortly. This was starting to get on his nerves now. His only consolation was that it would be his last day at the inn. It was time that he got back to his other life in the Fire Nation’s capital. 

He closed the door behind him and sighed as he entered the room that had been his living quarters for the last few days. As he sat on his bed - the room had no table - he loosened the wraps covering his mouth until they hung around his neck like a scarf. He began eating the stale, cold rice slowly and methodically as he thought about all that had happened over the past few days. 

Life back in the capital with his family had been wearing down on him ever since he had been welcomed home. His sister had insisted that he belonged at his father’s side, but his father didn’t seem to take any sort of interest in him. He was expected to show up to meetings, but he never felt welcome. In fact, he felt obligated not to speak or contribute at all to the matters being discussed, not that his opinion was ever asked for in the first place. It was quite obvious that his sister had effectively taken his place in his father’s mind. 

He had everything he had wanted during his three years of exile, yet it felt empty. He felt empty. 

Then something during a meeting on inner state military affairs caught his attention. One of his father’s cronies was discussing what to do about a general named Mung. Apparently he was known for being a tyrant and a brute; just another one of hundreds who were like him in the Fire Nation’s military, he thought. 

His father grew impatient. “We don’t have the resources to deal with this, not with the eclipse and the invasion coming soon. He is a capable man in charge of an important operation. Let it lie for now.” 

His counsel acquiesced. All throughout that day, he dwelled on the thought of General Mung. It made him think of another high ranking officer who had been a thorn in his side. He remembered how he had used a disguise to infiltrate a fully stocked walled military compound in the Earth Kingdom. It would be simple to penetrate this General Mung’s ore smelting factory by comparison. He felt less than useless remaining in the capital, anyway. 

That night, he procured a blue oni mask from the palace’s dejected theater. The once bright blue and white paint had faded with time and neglect, but it would serve. The one he had left behind at Lake Laogai had once belonged to his mother. He had taken it into exile with him to remind himself of the times when he believed that he and his family were actually happy. Those times had long since passed, he realized. Could they ever exist again? He sat in the dark theater for a long time, staring into the eyes of the wood and lacquer face in his hands. He thought that he had turned a new leaf back in the Earth Kingdom, but what did he know? After all, he had come back here with his sister, hadn’t he? At the crossroads of destiny, he had chosen his path. 

To his surprise, his father was on board with allowing him to travel in the countryside. He didn’t even have to use any of the arguments he had come with to try and sway him.

“After all,” his father said, “you have not seen the nation since becoming a man.”

Of course, it would not be wise for him to travel without a disguise. Servants provided him with new homespun clothing, which was simple and plain, but well crafted. Lo and Li taught him how to wrap his face in a balaclava to hide his distinctive facial features. With luck, no-one would recognize him on the road. 

As he was about to set off with his sack filled with traveling food and goods - including a signet ring for “emergencies” tucked into a hidden pocket of his tunic - his sister appeared. 

“Oh, big brother!” she said with mock sweetness. “Do be careful on the road, won’t you? I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you before the big day.” She was referring to the eclipse. It was still weeks away. He had been granted only a week in the country before he would have to return. 

He reached up and touched the hilt of one of the broadswords strapped to his back. “I can take care of myself,” he said quietly, but firmly. 

There were others who he had visited before his departure. His uncle, who was imprisoned, had acted as if he were not there, as usual. 

“Uncle, I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to do or who I’m supposed to be,” he had admitted hoarsely. “I’m going on this trip to find out, do some soul searching.” 

But his uncle remained silent. 

“Fine, I guess you don’t care about me anymore!” he had shouted after losing his patience. He whirled and stormed out of the prison. 

The night before he had visited his girlfriend. She seemed to be the only person who was staunchly against his solo expedition. 

“At least let me try to convince my parents to let me go with you,” she had asked after they shared a long, deep kiss. 

“No,” he said firmly. “This is something I need to do on my own.” 

She had pulled away, suddenly cold. 

“Fine, go on your stupid adventure!” she exclaimed. Then added more softly, “just be careful, okay?” 

“I will,” he promised, though he had no such intention. He had appointed himself to be Mung’s executioner. If he were caught in the act, he would be labeled a traitor to the nation. His father’s mercy on him had been fully exhausted already. To fail or be caught was worth his life. 

He made his own way through the caldera city that was the Fire Nation’s capital. From the palace he walked South-East towards the port. He would need to catch a ship leaving for the outer islands in order to reach the Jang Hui river, where General Mung’s factory was located. He couldn’t be sure that his sister or her agents weren’t tracking him, so he employed a simple diversion technique in order to lose them. He browsed a number of shops, weaving his way in an erratic pattern through the city. He also discreetly asked if any supply ships were set to leave for the outer islands. He learned that there was a ship leaving at midday. He used the few hours he had to continue his leisurely stroll through the capital city. It was by far the largest in the Fire Islands, but it was nowhere near as labyrinthian as Ba Sing Se had been. The streets had been carefully planned so that all of they ran perpendicular in a spiralling sun-ray pattern, with the royal palace at its center. He wasn’t concerned with losing his way, despite not visiting the city frequently. In fact, he had never walked the streets on his own before. He was always carried from place to place in a palanquin, or rode in a moose dragon-drawn carriage. 

He reached the docks before midday. The captain of the supply ship stated that he wasn’t taking passengers, but was quickly convinced otherwise by the flash of silver coins. He was allowed to sit above decks, which he counted himself fortunate for. The captain was paid well enough not to ask any questions, not even for his name. 

It took most of the rest of the day for the ship to make its journey to the outer islands. That night, he camped in the shelter of one of the island’s many natural caves. He guessed that it would take one or two more days to make his way by foot to the Jang Hui river. He would be approaching the factory from upstream. There were a few small farming villages along the way where he might be able to find an inn, if there were any decent ones. 

That night he took out his broadswords and examined them as he carefully ran a whetstone over the already sharp edge. He was never good at the quiet sort of meditation that he had often seen his uncle engaged in. His hands needed to be doing something in order for his mind to be set free. He contemplated what he would do when he met General Mung. At first, he had intended to sneak in and assassinate the man outright. A stealthy, clean incision to cut out one infection in the Fire Nation war machine. However, in a rare moment of clarity his plan struck him as vain. 

If you simply cut off one diseased finger on an infected hand, it will not stop the spread, he heard himself say in his uncle’s slow, deliberate voice. He listened further, but no more wisdom was forthcoming. The moment had vanished, and he wasn’t left with a more satisfactory solution. 

This is all I can do for now, he told himself, cementing his resolve. He could not sever the hand from the wrist, but he could lop off one pinky finger. He could figure out the rest later. 

His feet carried him the next day to a small farming community. The townsfolk grew quiet as they covertly stared at the stranger with his face wrapped in dark cloth. He hadn’t expected an outright welcome, but he hoped for less attention. Their eyes seemed to dart from his face to his swords. 

They must believe I’m a soldier back from the war, he mused as he walked past a small boy who was openly gawking at him. When he returned his look, a woman quickly grabbed hold of the boy’s hand and pulled him into an open doorway. There were no men he could see, other than young boys and old timers. 

This must be a common sight in the Fire Nation, he reflected. His forefathers had been conscripting able-bodied young men for over a generation, whether they were firebenders or not. All resources were utilized for the war effort. His grandfather had declared he would spread the prosperity of the Fire Nation throughout the world, but towns like this one had seldom been touched by the fortune that his great grandfather had insisted was ubiquitous throughout the nation.

He was learning a lot about his country in a very short time, he realized. People like Mung threw their weight over poor towns like this one all over the world, even in their own nation. He found himself unconsciously clenching his fist as he moved down the main thoroughfare. 

He found what he was looking for - a tea shop. Old gaffers loved to sit and pass the time gossiping about any news or events happening within a day’s ride of their village. He knew where to gather his information from. As he entered the shop’s outer patio where most of the regular customers were seated, a hush fell over the small crowd that was gathered there. As he had guessed, it was almost exclusively old men, save for one off-duty soldier sitting in a far corner. The sight caused the hair on his neck to prickle. 

The proprietor of the shop was a wizened old woman. She reminded him vaguely of Lo and Li, his sister’s personal guardians. He wasn’t very familiar with old women though, and the only thing she held in common with the twins was her age. She looked at him sharply for a moment before speaking. 

“What can I get for you?” she asked pleasantly. 

“Just a table in the shade will do for me. My feet are aching from walking all day” 

She squinted at him. “You don’t want any tea?” Oh spirits above, he was a fool. He quickly amended his strategy. 

“I have a bad scar. It’s still healing,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Just a seat would be fine, but I’ll pay you the price of a cup if it matters.” 

She smiled then. “I can give you some leaves, and a little something for the road.” 

He nodded in appreciation and counted out a hand full of coppers. He had plenty of silver and even some gold to spare, but he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

He found a seat in the corner opposite the soldier. By his dress he was a runner; a messenger for sensitive letters as well as a fetch and delivery man. He was off-duty for the day. From his position relative to the other patron’s, he was also a stranger here. He avoided looking at him further, hoping to avoid drawing the man’s attention. 

Too late, however. The man soon stood and walked over to the table where he was trying his best to look more weary than he felt. He leaned against the back of the chair across from him. 

“You a local, stranger?” he drawled. He could smell rice wine on his breath and immediately recognized that it was not tea that he had been drinking.

Shit, he silently cursed. This could go worse than he had thought if the man became belligerent in his drunkenness. 

He tilted his head and looked up at the man, as if noticing his presence for the first time. 

“In a manner of speaking,” was all that he gave. 

“What’s that s-posed to mean?” he asked, narrowing his gaze. 

“Why do you ask?” he could be dancing on thin ice, he realized, but the back-and-forth banter was no more than a reasonable response to a random person asking him about his affairs, soldier or no. 

The man seemed to sober up a bit, as if noticing the twin hilts of his broadswords peaking around behind his back for the first time. 

“I’ve been through this town more than once over the last year and I’ve never seen the likes of you before. So, you local or not?” 

He shook his head. “Not from this town, down the river a ways,” he clarified. 

That seemed to satisfy him. “I heard you tell the old grandmother that you had a scar. You come in from the war?” 

He nodded, happy to have the man steer the conversation away from his identity. He knew nothing of the local families or politics in the area. If he had to bluff his way through that, he knew that he’d be caught in a lie more quickly than a flying hog-monkey in a fruit basket trap. 

The man invited himself to take a seat at the chair he had been leaning on. Great, now the old timers would be too busy pretending not to listen in on their own conversation to gaff about local happenings that might tell him more about Mung. 

Maybe this drunken soldier can be of use to me, he thought. 

He fed him a lie about some interior Earth Kingdom insertion force and a misfire with burning pitch. It was enough to make the man wince in sympathy, and he likely wouldn’t ask to see the “scar” any time soon. He then began to ply the man for information about local goings-on, as if he were a man returning home from a long deployment.   
He started with some worthless prattle about local weather patterns and harvests, until he finally moved on to the military operations in the area. Apparently, a small airfield had been built atop a mesa near the factory as a tentative defence force in case anyone tried targeting the Fire Nation’s industrial infrastructure. Then he mentioned something which piqued his interest. 

The soldier leaned in conspiratorially, as if he were passing along a particularly juicy bit of news. “I heard that a small fishing village on the Jang Hui was suspected of stealing food and medical supplies from the factory!” he said in a wine-tinged stage whisper. “No doubt that old Mung was hoarding it; I’ll bet that village hasn’t seen a crumb of their annual crop sharing stimulus since the bastard was promoted!” 

His eyes widened in unfeigned surprise. A fishing village downriver from a factory was bound to experience major food shortages and increased sickness from the factory’s waste product, especially since production has been amped up over the last year. He vaguely wondered why the village hadn’t been abandoned and re-settled upstream, but he knew that Fire Nation folks could be just as stubborn about their traditions and history as the immovable Earth Kingdomers. 

“That sure is a shame,” he managed, not specifying whether he meant the robbery or Mung’s actions. “What will he do about the village?” he prodded. 

The man shrugged. “I heard that he was pretty irate, but I couldn’t say what he’d do about it for sure. I heard that he’s threatened to burn the village to the waterline on several occasions.” 

He nodded, confirming something for himself. Now he just needed to wait for an opening to leave. 

When it arrived, it wasn’t what he had expected, or wanted. A tall, broad-chested man strode on to the covered patio and made a bee-line right towards the table where the two men had been seated. He put a mighty paw of a hand on the soldier’s shoulder. 

“Ha, knew I’d find you here Tetsu!” he spared a glance to the man with the face wraps seated across from him. “Who’s this guy?” 

“Heeyy, Wong,” the man drew out the word in a manner which made it clear that he had not wanted this confrontation. 

“You know what the Lieutenant says about drinking in town, don’t you?” he said, giving the man a heavy slap on his back while he downed the rest of the contents of his cup. It sprayed from his mouth and coated the man across the table in a fine mist of strong wine. He scowled. 

“Dammit, Wong! I’m not on duty today! And if the Lieutenant wants me to get drunk on the base, then he can start providing some decent spirits!” he lifted his glass and turned to wink at the proprietor, who was focusing very intently on sweeping a small square of the floor. 

“Relax, pal. Just giving you some flack,” the man said with a grin. He turned to face the other man at the table. “And who is this? Another drunk?” he sneered, although he hadn’t even had a cup of tea. 

“He’s uh, well, I forgot his name, but he’s a guy come in from the Earth Kingdom!” he didn’t feel the need to point out that he had never given a name. 

“Earth Kingdom deployment, eh? That’s rough, buddy.” he said with an air of mock sympathy. “I’m Wong, and this useless pencil neck is Tetsu. And you are?” 

“Lee.” he answered simply, re-using his pseudonym from Ba Sing Se. It wouldn’t matter, there were a million Lees. “Are you both from the air base?” 

They nodded in unison. “It’s not bad, but it sure is boring,” the drunk who was identified as Tetsu stated. “Nothing ever happens. You just sit there, on top of a mountain.” he made a show of rolling his eyes. 

“Says you!” Wong chimed in, “at least you get to leave more than once a fortnight, messenger boy!” He was now pulling the other man to his feet. “Come on, let’s go sober you up. The lieutenant needs you to deliver a message.” 

“But I’m off duty!” the man squirmed as he was lifted bodily from his chair. The man chuckled into the fabric covering his mouth as the two walked back to the street. 

The old woman was shaking her head. The old men had shuffled away during the confrontation. She finally walked over to where he had been seated and dropped a small wrapped parcel on the table. It seemed much more bulky than what he had paid for. She was smiling down at him despite his visible confusion. 

“I had a grandson about your age who was sent to the war. He died in the siege of Ba Sing Se.” 

He blinked. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I lost my cousin there, too.” He didn’t know what had made him confess this to the old matron. It was the only true thing he had told anyone in the town. 

It seemed to stir something in her gaze. Her sad smile transformed into a frown. “I hope your family isn’t wrapped up in that mess in Jang Hui town.”

When he shook his head, she gave him a final smile before returning to her work, taking away the abandoned cups of the soldier and the old men. 

He had learned much in his brief visit to the town, but he needed to leave it behind. The sun was making its return trip towards the horizon by the time he left the last of the village behind. There were miles of country to walk through before he’d make it to the next village. 

At sunset, he followed a tributary to the main body of the Jang Hui river. The languid grey water from which the river derived its name flowed swiftly through a field of rapids, the white foam sparkling with golden hues as it captured the light of the setting sun. He walked alongside it, knowing that the river would eventually lead him to the village that had been marked on his map. He held out hope for an inn, but he knew he would be traveling well into the night. 

When he finally sat down for the night, he was looking down over the sleeping town. He had found a rocky outcropping that would serve as protection from the elements for the night. He didn’t bother with a fire, hoping not to draw attention from the village below. Wandering vagabonds may have been a common sight in the Earth Kingdom, but it was far from the norm in the Fire Nation. It was a pleasantly balmy evening and the sky was clear. The waning moon didn’t bother him with its light, and he soon slept better under the stars than he had under the canopy of his opulent bed in the palace for a long time.

The next day, he had entered the village and found the inn. “The Golden Dragon” its name boasted. In reality, the common room was overrun with fire lizards, and the rooms were small, cramped, and dark. But it was marginally better than sleeping outside and the beds were flea-free. He could look past the habits of the innkeep, who had clearly been deprived of the company of other men for too long. 

“So, you got a name?” he asked, looking up at him with a grin. He was a short and stout man, but his arms were at least twice as wide around as his own. Even his face seemed more muscular than usual. He was definitely not a typical innkeeper. 

“Lee,” he uttered the syllable in a way he hoped conveyed that he was not open to answer any more questions. 

“What brings you to town?” he asked in a proprietary manner. 

He gave him a hard look. “I’m settling some family affairs.” There. It would be uncommonly rude for a man to pry into another man’s family drama. 

He handed over the key to his room. He had requested the farthest room from the inn’s common room. 

\---

That night was the night he had invaded the factory through an engineering access tunnel, where he met the mysterious woman for the first time. Before they parted, he had taken her hand and kissed it. He didn’t quite know what had motivated him to make such a move. Maybe it was the theatrics of the moment and the essence of the Blue Spirit which sparked the impulse. In either case, he didn’t think much of the kiss at the time. 

That was, until the next night. 

He had been collecting his breakfast of rice and mediocre tea when he heard the innkeeper talking with an old man. The two of them were sharing gossip. He decided to linger at the teapot, pretending to ponder over the selection. 

“I heard that those people down in the fishing village tried to destroy the factory last night! Whoever they were, they sure got Mung riled up! He’s threatening the place down again.” 

The innkeeper was shaking his head. “It’s a shame if you ask me. Him with all that airship and all, threatening a poor little starving village.” 

The old man gave a gap-toothed smile and winked. “Be careful what you say, boy. You never know who's listening.

“He felt the old man’s eyes boring into the side of his head. Before the innkeeper could turn to look, the door was already swinging shut. 

He seethed as his tea grew cold. He should have done what he went there to do and gotten out of town that very night. Now he would have to finish the job before General Mung had a chance to punish innocent people for what he had done. 

When the mysterious waterbender appeared at the airbase, he grew suspicious. Was she predicting his movements somehow? But there was nothing for it. They made their way to the airship together, but where General Mung should have been, an assassin was in his place. 

He felt the energy surge into his body. It's too much, he remembered thinking. It took all of his willpower and his resolve to live to make his limbs move, which felt heavy with the supercharged energy. His hair danced wildly like a dark flame as he directed the flow of energy through and finally out of his body. Time itself seemed to surround him thickly like a syrup, and at the last moment he redirected his aim not at Lee’s heart, but at the control panel just behind him. 

There is no reason to kill when you can accomplish the same goal by disabling your opponent, his uncle lectured him many times through his frequent bouts of past rage. 

The man was not completely out of harm’s way, however. As the lightning surged through the metal machinery, a stray bolt arched outwards and struck Lee.

He didn’t remember much of the mad dash away from the mesa. He hadn’t even worried about which direction they were heading in. She had stopped to catch her breath, and he had circled back to meet her. As he sagged against the large boulder that was their hiding place, he felt a sudden flash of pain in his hand. It was burning, as if it were on fire. Then he realized that it was the hand he had used to catch the lightning. 

He carefully unwrapped and removed the black glove that had been covering his hand. He gave a sharp intake of breath as the night air lashed against his wound. From the tips of his fingers to nearly half-way up his forearm there was a streak of angry, red flesh. His fingers and palm hurt the worst, as if the flesh there was aflame. 

The woman shocked him by moving a floating orb of water towards his hand. When he recoiled automatically, she had gently taken hold of his wrist. He stiffened as the liquid made contact with his skin, but he soon realized what she was trying to do. As the cool water enveloped his hand, it began to glow with a faint, blue light. His eyes widened in amazement as the sharp pain seemed to seep away from his body, as if it had been absorbed by the water. 

Within moments, the healing was completely. He stared at his hand, flexing the fingers in disbelief. He had never experienced being healed by waterbending before. It felt nothing short of miraculous to him. 

He had been so absorbed by the sensation that he had foolishly let his guard down. He barely had time to reach up and grab hold of her wrist before she pulled the mask half-way from his face. He was about to throw her bodily away from him when she shocked him even further by leaning forward and kissing him directly on the mouth. 

A pleasant but bewildering warmth blossomed in his stomach as her lips pressed against his own. Then, as quickly as she had darted in, she had pulled herself away. But her wide-brimmed straw hat had been knocked away by her awkward movement. It gave him a moment to pull his mask into place and step away from her.

Suddenly a flash of recognition entered his mind. He knew her! 

Spirits above, her??

Before he could quite register what was happening, he found himself slowly backing away, his own eyes locked on to her own deep blue gaze. His mind reeled, and he turned and ran away as quickly as possible. He heard her cry out after him, but her words were buried underneath the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears.

His mind returned from its wandering as the last of these images played themselves out behind his eyelids. His hand had unconsciously risen towards his face. He traced his bottom lip with a knuckle and realized that it was the same hand that she had healed. He opened his eyes and registered his surroundings - the small, cramped room at the inn, illuminated by the soft golden light filtering in through the thin drapes covering the small, open window.. It was getting late, and he had someone to meet before he began the long journey home. 

\----

His heart was racing as he neared the top of Ryuu peak. Would he meet with an ambush when he reached the summit? He had searched the sky as well as he could with his naked eye for any sign of a sky bison or a boy on a glider, but there was nothing. In fact, the sky had been almost cloudless for much of his journey. Ryuu peak was a spiritual site with a footpath leading most of the way up the narrow spire. The local countrymen must have fallen out with the spirits in recent years, however. Much of the path was no better than a goat path, and he had to free climb his way up in places. 

He wore the face of the Blue Spirit once again. If there was a chance she hadn’t somehow recognized him, he was going to keep his identity secret. After all, she still hid behind the visage of the Painted Lady. 

He pulled himself up the few remaining feet to the top of the mountain. Remnants of small, colorful prayer flags still held firm to where they had been stuck into cracks in the rocks. As his eyes came level with the mountaintop, he surveyed his surroundings carefully. It was mostly flat, and completely empty save for a large stone statue that was so impossibly ancient and weather-worn that it had been rendered completely unrecognizable from the smaller rocks surrounding it. 

He cautiously pulled himself up from a crouch and stood to his full height. What he saw gave him pause. Ryuu peak was the highest summit in a series of tall rock formations surrounding it. He was gazing out over row upon row of golden spears aimed towards the empty sky as the golden disk of the sun met the horizon before him.

A sudden movement caught his eye and he turned towards it, his hands reflexibly reaching for the twin blades strapped to his back as he crouched into a battle-ready stance. 

She stepped into view from behind the spirit statue, her hands raised to show that she was not a threat. It was her, no disguises, no Painted Lady. 

Katara. 

Despite her warding gesture, he stiffened. Though her manner of dress had changed from what he was normally accustomed to, it was undoubtedly the Water Tribe girl. He wondered if there were not some way that this meeting could still be some sort of trap. Perhaps the Avatar and his sky bison were waiting among the stone pillars below, and they would fly up at any moment to ambush him. 

“Plese, don’t attack,” she seemed suddenly unsure. He thought he could sense something about her confidence or resolve faltering. She took a few cautious steps forward, her hands still held out in front of her, as if she were approaching a wild animal that she was desperately trying not to scare off. 

“It’s me, remember? The girl who helped you save that village…” 

The realization that she did not - could not - know who he was suddenly dawned on him. He drew his hands slowly away from the weapons at his back. He stood frozen, like a cat-deer who had been startled and was deciding whether or not to stand his ground or bolt as she inched closer to him. 

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it out of that factory,” the words seemed to tumble clumsily from her mouth. One hand had gone instinctively to her throat. She looked down in surprise at it, as if it were not her own hand placed there. Her face grew hard and serious.

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be standing here.” 

The trap at the airbase had never been intended for her, but she would have fallen into it all the same. Lightning Lee would not have killed her, he thought, but she would be in a prison somewhere, being plied for information. 

“I have to go tonight,” she looked down at his feet, having gone suddenly shy. Her hand had traveled up into her hair, and she caught a strand and anxiously twirled it around her finger. 

“Please, let me see your face so I can thank you properly,” she said, tilting her head to gaze at him once more. 

Behind the mask his face grew hot, and he self-consciously looked away. Her hands were there, one cupping his cheek while the other pulled the mask free. He shut his eyes against the revelation, feeling suddenly ashamed. He heard a sharp intake of breath

“Zuko?” she whispered incredulously. He opened his eyes and met her gaze. Her azure eyes were just inches away from his own. 

Before he quite knew what he was doing, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to hers. To his surprise, it lasted longer than the one the night before. He allowed his eyes to close again as her lips slightly parted, accepting the kiss. That confusing warmth flooded his stomach again, and his face felt warm from the heat of it. 

Too soon it was over. Her eyes opened wide, more with shock than horror, he hoped. She was also flushed, much as he imagined himself looking as their heads parted. She backed away from him as he sat there dumbly looking at her. He stood paralyzed as a thousand thoughts and questions entered his mind at once. 

He did not call out to her as she departed, leaving him alone on the mountain peak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends our short tale. I hope you enjoyed it :) feel free to let me know how you felt in the comments below!
> 
> This chapter presented a lot of challenges for me. For one, it went on much longer than what I had anticipated. This was initially going to be a much shorter chapter when I had initially planned it, but as I wrote the story continued to flow forth onto the page almost by its own accord. The context for the Blue Spirit's involvement in the events felt like it needed proper context. 
> 
> This chapter was an editing nightmare for me. I did have to trim it down in places to avoid being overly redundant, and in the end I decided to publish it without getting a second opinion first. If you are interested in being a beta reader for me and my ongoing Zutara projects, please do let me know. As an inexperienced author, I would love to have guidance from some fanfiction veterans.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year! This story has come so quickly and easily to me that it has overshadows my other WIP's. This will be a 3 part story with a happy ending I think :) Like what you read? Hate it? Wanna give constructive criticism or just wanna squeee with me? Feel free to leave a comment below!


End file.
